151
SONNET.
I cannot part from thee—thine image still
Lingers around me with all beauteous things;
Whate'er is bright and pine thy memory brings,
And life with lovelier dreams 't is thine to fill.
In prayer I hear thy accents, soft and deep,
Catch from thine eye devotion's holiest glow;
In grief thy sighs seem breathing, hushed, and low,
Thy soothing tones are round me when I weep.
In joy thy smile still beams its gentle light,
Radiant with feeling, sympathy,and love;
Thy form is round me wheresoe'er I rove,
Thy sweet sad gaze still fills my trancëd sight.
I cannot part from thee—no, thou art shrined
With all high, holy visions of my mind.
Lingers around me with all beauteous things;
Whate'er is bright and pine thy memory brings,
And life with lovelier dreams 't is thine to fill.
In prayer I hear thy accents, soft and deep,
Catch from thine eye devotion's holiest glow;
In grief thy sighs seem breathing, hushed, and low,
Thy soothing tones are round me when I weep.
In joy thy smile still beams its gentle light,
Radiant with feeling, sympathy,and love;
Thy form is round me wheresoe'er I rove,
Thy sweet sad gaze still fills my trancëd sight.
I cannot part from thee—no, thou art shrined
With all high, holy visions of my mind.
